Had a fun -- and thought-provoking -- night last night. Met my one old London pal for a great movie to see with a girlfriend -- Sunshine Cleaning, a dark comedy about two sisters that run a cleaning service disposing of human remains. The fact they're sisters -- and impossibly adorable -- is the important part.
We loved the movie, and came out in a great mood to a throng of people in London's West End. Sitting outside with a couple of glasses of chilled white wine for a good old chat seemed like the best move. It was early too, so we found a good spot quickly. A woman about our age sat at a table next to us, by herself at that point, a cute, curly-haired blonde with blue eyes.
Not that we had noticed her. We were chatting. Then a young woman tottered past us in a tight-black mini wearing those five-inch, really expensive heels with the brightly-colored soles.
"She can barely walk in those shoes," my friend said. "She might actually fall over," I said. An image that sent us into paroxyms of giggles, both of us wearing flats. The woman next to us (also wearing flats) chimed in with how much the lady might have paid for that pleasure (about the cost of a sofa) and that just sent us all over the edge.
We started chatting. Quickly, her sister, (really? just after the movie?) walked up and joined her. Her sister was similar, sort of, also with classic British blue eyes and striking blonde hair, but hers was sleek and straight instead. But they were startlingly different too. It made me think of how different the sisters in the movie were -- and then how different my own sons are.
We ended up spending the evening with these two gorgeous British sisters. It was odd. We actually had a lot in common with them somehow.
They had been friends for years. They actually phone each other every morning, which was just too sweet. And my London pal and I have been friends for years too. Although many of those years we lived in different countries, we've always kept in touch. I met her the night I met my husband, at a party in Rome, coming up to 31 years ago now. And now we're both here.
And then we all had grown-up children, kind of. And one of them was desperately missing a daughter same age as my eldest who's in Australia at the moment, so we had that desperately missing kid thing in common right off the bat. We had all worked. And women always have men in common, so it was a fun night.
Coming home later on the tube, I thought about the sisterhood of women. And how important it is. And how little of it I've got. But how it's just not that easy to just conjure up.
Okay, now, here, we know the reason why. I haven't been here that long. It takes time. And I have a bad habit of withdrawing, rather than reaching out, when I feel bad. Maybe many of us do. How can you know?
Where I used to live, I was consumed with my daily life, like so many women at that stage. I had elderly parents, two kids at home, a husband, a house, a full-time job. I hardly had time for the friends I did have. And I got insular with my husband and boys, which people do, don't they?
When my boys did leave home for college, and my parents both died, I set up a book club with some of the women I had known and liked best over the years, mostly the mother of boys my sons had played sports with, women I had sat on the bleachers with for hours. It was one of the best things I did, just for me, the entire 12 years I lived there. But then I left.
Don't get me wrong. I know how lucky I am to have three wonderful men in my life who love me -- and who I get to love. Beyond lucky.
Two of them aren't here though. And life is made of many things, right? And now I do have time. And I was reminded yesterday of the emotional power -- and sheer fun -- of sisterhood.
But I don't know anyone here. And you need history with people, like I have with my one old friend, when you get to my age. And if you're not working, where do you meet other women you have things in common with? Will my friend and I actually see those British sisters again if there's no place to just meet again effortlessly, like the workplace, the playground, the school bus stop or the bleachers at a high school basketball game?
One of the sisters said at a certain point that she had many old girlfriends and could never see uprooting her life, that it just wasn't in her character, that she just would never do it to herself, that she actually physically wouldn't be able to do it.
Is it in my character? And if so, why? And what can I do about it now?
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